Page 34 of Brim Over Boot
Five more cards rise in the air. Three blue again and two red.Holy shit. Colton is at nine. I’m at six.
I could win this. If I get all five for aesthetics, I’ll win this.
Colton seems to have come to the same conclusion as me, his hands on his knees as he mutters words too quietly for me to hear.
“Overall aesthetic,” Mr. Yadav calls.
I swear you could hear a pin drop in the silence that follows. The judges grab their cards and hold them up. There’s a beat where it feels like time stalls.
And then I see it.
Five blue.
A roar goes up in the crowd, the sound a match for the beat of my heart. I glance over at Colton, unable to help myself. He looks…shocked. Absolutely stunned. And for the briefest of moments, I feel…sympathy.
I hear my uncle whistling as a few people come over, slapping my shoulder, congratulating me. But I can’t look away from my rival. From that expression plastered on his face.
I thought victory would taste oh so sweet after all these years with this man at my throat, trying his best to dig in. Iwantedto put him in his place. Wanted to prove I was the better farrier.
Instead?
All I feel in lieu of the victory I was expecting is a sting I wasn’t prepared for in the least.
Fuck.
Chapter 11
Colton
ItfeelsasifI’m submerged in water as I walk Noah’s way, everything around me dampened and hazy, moving slower than it should be.
He looks wary. Maybe. It’s hard to tell.
I hold out my hand, and Noah takes it.
“Congratulations,” I tell him, the word tasting flat and hollow on my tongue.
Lips pressed into a flat line, Noah nods once. If he says anything in response as I turn to go, I don’t hear it.
My family comes over while I’m collecting my things.
“Damn fine effort,” my dad says, slapping me on the shoulder.
I shrug, and my mom gives me a hug. “You did good.”
Did I, though? Not good enough, apparently.
I mutter a response, and my mom lets me go. There are more words—conciliatory and kind—but they don’t feel like much of anything, passing me by like smoke.
Noah is standing next to the man I recognize as his uncle, smiling. My breath stutters in my lungs at the sight.
I don’t think I’ve ever seen that smile before now.
My movements feel stiff as I pick up my bag. Someone tails me—Remi, I think—as I head over to the judges to see if they need help disassembling anything. They assure me it’s all taken care of, and when I look back, I realize that’s the case. The horses are already back in their trailer, the temporary setup for the Shoein’ being taken apart as I watch.
I field a few more half-hearted comments from townsfolk as I head toward my truck. It’s blessedly silent once I shut myself inside. Remi rides with me, quiet on our way back to the ranch. He keeps looking over, but my gaze is locked out the window.
When I park in front of the ranch house, I fully intend to head up to my room to sulk, but Remi snags my arm before I can.
